


Under Pressure

by seven (sevenpoints)



Category: Star Trek RPF
Genre: Asphyxiation, M/M, erotic asphyxiation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-06
Updated: 2012-12-06
Packaged: 2017-11-20 10:32:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/584444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sevenpoints/pseuds/seven
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Written for a fic exchange. Prompt: Chris and asphyxiation. I'd like to read something where he gets his air cut off without getting choked. Bonus points if it's Chris' first time having his air cut off (as in, they knew each other before the bridge scene).</p>
            </blockquote>





	Under Pressure

God, it was so hot.

Chris was aware of the irony of bitching about the heat while lounging next to a pool full of cool, rippling water, but that didn’t change the fact that it was hot. It was LA, so this wasn’t exactly a surprise but still, god damn it, it was really fucking hot!

“It’s hot,” he whined out loud.

The complaint was met by the wet smack of a towel over his face. It smelled like sun block and botanical hair cream: Zach. It was also pleasantly cool, so he decided to leave it there, though he waved an indiscriminate middle finger around at his assailant.

Zach snorted in response. “I’m tempted to just kick you into the pool.”

“That would be illogical, as my being in the water would not change the temperature of the surrounding air.”

“You have got to stop watching the original series, or at least stop watching Spock. It’s gonna fuck with your Kirk.”

Though Zach couldn’t see it, he grinned. “Spock’s already fucking Kirk.”

“And just like that, you’re back in character.”

Chris gave a little “Am I brilliant or what?” flourish, then dropped his hands onto his chest. He could feel his heart beat, faster than he would have expected for lying on his back and chatting. The towel, he guessed. It was cutting off his air a little, and actually, he was getting kind of dizzy, but it felt nice, like he was lying on water instead of solid concrete. Breathing shallowly, he let his mind drift and watched the colors playing across the black of his eyelids: red, yellow, acid green. He imagined stepping out into them and floating in that black while the swirls of light played over his skin.

And actually, that was kind of getting him hard.

Wait, what?

Drips of cold water struck his belly like an electrical current and he gasped, shooting upright as his dick pulsed in his shorts.

“Chris, what the fuck?”

Eyes swimming, he blinked up at Zach, who dripped back at him. “Jesus, Zach! You scared the shit out of me!”

“I called your name twice. You were barely breathing, and then you were pitching a tent in my backyard. As a matter of fact, you still are.”

Bewildered, Chris stared down at his lap, where his erection was evident even beneath the pooled towel. “Um, yeah. I don’t really know where that came from.”

“What were you thinking of?”

“Honestly? I was fantasizing about flying. I got a little trippy there for a second.”

“Heatstroke?” Concern wrinkled Zach’s brow. “Let’s go inside.”

“No, not heatstroke. I’ve had that before, this was different. I think it was just because I couldn’t breathe.” He thought of it, the way he’d felt like he could drift up out of his body, and felt another twinge of arousal. “Yes, that was definitely it.” 

“Wellllll, I’m fresh out of psychoactive drugs, but if you want some help with that,” Zach nodded at his crotch, “I wouldn’t mind lending a hand.”

The idea was tempting—Zach gave fantastic head and was teaching Chris to do the same in return—but Chris found himself declining. “I appreciate the offer, but I think I just weirded myself out too much for sex. Seriously, dude.” He poked his erection, which was subsiding, “what the  _hell?_ ”

+++

Two hours later, he was pacing in his living room, eyeing his laptop.

According to the guy in the store, this model was super fancy special, with a billion grams of memory, or something, but all Chris had cared about was that the screen was small enough for him to cover with his hands. He’d only bought the thing because Katherine got sick of leaving him voicemails he never answered, and wanted to be able to keep in touch without driving across LA to see him.

The only difference was that now she left him voicemails bitching about how he never checked his e-mail. The Internet was a scary place, damn it, especially now that it was full of fans itching to tear into him for getting cast as Captain Kirk. The last time he’d gone online he’d clicked a link and was suddenly bombarded with macros from  _Princess Diaries 2_  and he’d panicked so hard he’d shoved the thing into a shelf of modern British literature, which was where it sat now, peeking out at him from between Rudyard Kipling and D.H. Lawrence. 

Still, if he was careful not to wander…

Fuck. He had to know.

The Google search bar blinked up at him and he realized: he had no idea how to research “getting off on not being able to breathe.” Entering that returned a bunch of links about child labor and sleep disorders—useless, and scary.

“Asphyxiation” was better. The first link was for a Wikipedia article, which he knew would be nice and clinical and unlikely to mock him for being in a Disney film, but right beneath it was “Erotic Asphyxiation,” on the same site.

“Thank god,” he muttered, and clicked.

Thirty seconds later the laptop was back on the shelf. The fact that “Autoerotic fatality” had its own article was all Chris needed to know. He didn’t care how good it had felt, that tingle in his toes, the pressure in his chest, the rush of blood.

He didn’t.

Really.

Fuck.

He did, but he was scared.

+++

One week after that, the horrors of the Internet were the furthest things from Chris’ mind.

This was due to the fact that he couldn’t think much of anything when Zach had his tongue in his mouth, rubbing against his own and writhing to lick at the roof of his mouth and the insides of his teeth. All Chris could do was grab onto Zach’s ass for dear life and hope that the other man was steering them towards his bedroom.

Unfortunately, his wandering hands made Zach gasp and break the kiss. “Shit, Chris, I can’t walk when you do that.”

The only possible response was to grip Zach harder, eliciting a sound that was halfway between a groan and a snarl. They’d burst into his apartment after having spent all evening schmoozing with the producers at a dinner, and Zach took advantage of his formal wear by seizing his skinny tie. “Bed. Now.” A tug, and then Zach was dragging him down the hall, pulling on the tie like a leash.

Just as they got to the bedroom door, Zach’s grip on the tie slipped a fraction and suddenly the silk was cinching tight and in an instant Chris was there, the flush of heat in his face and the tightness in his throat, and his cock leapt in response

Then a second later it was gone, thwarted when Zach pulled the tie loose again. “Fuck! Sorry, are you okay?”

Concern shone bright in his eyes and Chris realized: this was it, his chance. Zach would be careful and he wouldn’t be alone. “Do that again.”

“What?”

“Choke me. Please.” He ran the tie through his fingers, then offered Zach the end. “I…I like it.”  _Come on, Zach, please._

“No.”

_Fuck_. “Why not?” He quirked his best grin, feeling a thrill of hope when Zach’s eyes softened somewhat, but no dice.

“I’m not gonna choke you with your tie, Chris. It’s not safe.”

It’s on the tip of Chris’ tongue to beg, shameless when it came to Zach, but the other man spoke again before he could. “This is better, anyway.”

And then he put his palm over Chris’ mouth.

This time, it was slower. The edge of Zach’s index finger barely pressed against his nostrils, allowing him to breathe, but not well, not easily, just enough to bring him to the edge of dizziness as Zach backed him down the hall. Brown eyes never left blue as the other man loosened his own tie and unbuttoned his shirt one handed, a nod of his head indicating that Chris should do the same. His hands were clumsy as he complied: he could taste Zach, could feel the lines of his palm against his lips and it was distracting, damn it, especially as all the blood in his body drained into his groin to leave him dizzier than before.

Zach, meanwhile, had stripped himself and was frowning with impatience, knocking Chris’ hands away from his buttons to do the job himself, dexterous as always. The chill of the air conditioning struck his skin and made it draw up tight, then tighter as tingles began to spread from the back of his throat and down through his limbs. Heat followed, forcing back the chill in waves and he was almost there, right on the edge of that black swirling space when Zach released him.

“Was that it?” he asked. “Was that good?”

Chris had to breathe, just breathe, before he could answer. “Yes.” He reached out to pull Zach forward by his hips and kiss him again, just a press of the lips. “ _Hell_  yes.”

They were both breathing heavily, mutually aroused by this strange new thing between them, where before there’d only been fucking. It wasn’t the time to analyze, but it hovered at their periphery, patient and cautious.

Zach’s teeth at his shoulder snapped Chris out of his daze. He pinched Zach’s ass in retaliation and a minor scuffle broke out as they yanked and shoved each other onto the bed. Zach won, as always (he had a way with his hands that knocked Chris’ weight advantage right out of the park) and soon they were making out like teenagers, naked bodies twining together in easy familiarity.

They broke apart, inevitably, so that Zach could grab his lube out of the nightstand. It was a step Chris hated—as awkward as groping for a condom with a girl—but when Zach slid in one slippery wet finger he decided he could live with it. They hadn’t been doing this long so he was still so tight but Zach worked him patiently, bringing up one of his legs to suck love bites all over the inside of one of his knees before biting again, sharply, right on his quad.

“I’m ready,” he grunted. “Come on.”

Usually, when they had sex, Zach liked to keep them at right angles to each other, with one or both of Chris’ legs in the air and Zach’s feet on the ground. It lined him up perfectly for a good, hard rut into Chris’ prostate, and they both loved how dirty and porny it felt, like they were moaning for unseen microphones, twisting their bodies for the cameras.

This time, for the first time, Zach spread Chris thighs and laid himself between them, one forearm braced over Chris’ chest so that his weight rested there, heavy and solid. It wasn’t the same as being suffocated, because Zach didn’t press down hard enough for that, but the pressure on his lungs coupled with the way Zach rocked into him, hard and steady in a rhythm that had Chris gripping the bedspread meant he lingered on the edge of breathlessness and fuck, that was good, that was really fucking hot and he made sure Zach felt it, too, in the way he fucked him back.

He was close, they both were close, when Zach suddenly shifted his weight, moving his arm so that he could press his hand over Chris’s mouth again and  _yes_  it was so fucking perfect, Zach’s thrusts speeding as he struggled to get enough air through his nostrils and failed. They were both damp with sweat and he could taste it on Zach’s palm, bright salt between his lips and he couldn’t help sucking in a bit of flesh and biting it, almost tearing as a frenzy burst through his limbs.

Zach’s face before his was just slipping into black when it all stopped. Zach pulled his hand away but before Chris could protest or catch his breath he was kissing him, mouths sealing airtight as he picked Chris’ mind apart with little twists of his tongue. Chris melted under the kiss even as a jolt of adrenaline hit his veins, fight-or-flight demanding that he push away the body that pinned him down. He wrestled against the urge and it fought back and  _yes yes yes_  it was so fucking good, his vision going white on the edges as he stopped breathing altogether and came, long and really fucking hard, smearing their bellies with his cum as Zach pumped him full of his seed.

+++

“How did you know?”

Beside him, Zach shrugged. “You don’t really need a manual to know how to suffocate someone.”

“Well no, but the timing, man, it was perfect. How?”

Chris was looking at Zach, while Zach was looking at the ceiling. “I might have done some research, after I saw you by the pool.”

“Wikipedia?”

“Yes! Did you know there’s a whole article on autoerotic fatality?”

“Oh my God,” Chris moaned, covering his face with his hands. “I know. I stopped reading after I saw that link.” More words came to him, and he used the screen of his fingers to hide as he spoke again. “You know, I don’t think I’d ever let anyone else do that to me.”

Now it was Zach’s turn to look while Chris avoided his gaze. “I don’t think I want anyone else to do that to you, either. It’s still dangerous.”

“I know.”

There was a long pause, and then Zach was pulling his hands away from his face. “I mean it. I don’t want anyone else doing…doing anything that we just did, with you.”

Chris blinked. Zach smiled.

Chris smiled back.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! Please drop me a line if you enjoyed?


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